Memory of the Ocean
by The Dead Are Still Living
Summary: Being sent hundreds of the past was hard enough. Not knowing what in the world she was doing, or why she was sent back, Stella was stuck with living the life of a famous ship builder's daughter. She had no idea what she was getting into when getting involved with a certain First Officer.
1. Chapter 1

April 10th, 2212

Stella felt herself picking up the pace as she ran through the tall "grasses" of Woodchuck, Aliana. She whimpered when she listened to the angered noises of her father behind her. Quickly, she took a left, running into a dark, hooded forest where she hoped he wouldn't be able to find her. Her lungs taking in the prosthetic air, her legs stinging like she was racing against the Wallows. She could hear them calling for her; but she didn't dare look back. She _couldn't_ turn back. She wasn't that dumb.

Finally, she reached a small opening in the middle of the forest. It seemed to give off an uneven aura; something purple mixed in with red, with a little bit of blue. The faux grass seemed to shimmer, as if there were sparkles mixed in the fake soil. Everything was fake. Stella hated it. She didn't know what it was like breathing in _real_ air like they used to over two-hundred years ago.

But there was something different here.

The grass didn't look fake. It smelt… different. It looked different. Everything about this area was odd. But Stella continued to walk to the middle. There was a tall weeping willow, and even _that_ looked odd. It was almost as if Stella was mesmerized by the beautiful tree, and as she walked under it, she became dizzy.

Then, everything went black…

︎ ︎ ︎

Adeline was awoken by the sound of someone knocking on wood. She squinted when she opened her eyes, but was met with a green canopy on the top of a bed she was currently lying on. Quickly she realized this wasn't her bed. She sat up and looked around her. The walls were golden, and striped with white wallpaper. The sheet on her was golden, and satin; something she had learned about in school, she never got to see it, however. She was sweating, and looked down at her attire. Her eyebrows furrowed, she wasn't wearing her own clothing. Instead there was an off-white top that was loose, and bottoms that were snug at the bottom.

"Adeline," came a deep voice from outside her door. "Come darling, we must get you boarded on the ship."

"What?" she croaked, and then cleared her throat.

"You must board the _Titanic_ dear," the man responded, and then slowly opened the door. "You're not ready?"

The man was older, maybe in his sixties at the least. He had a beard growing, along with a mustache that were now mostly grey—almost white. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, and had a top hat upon his head. From what she could see, his hair was short.

"Oh dear, we're going to be late. Come on Adeline," he tells her, and grabs a dress from the chair in front of the bed. It was a tan color, with white lace over the the skirt of it. It had pearls around the neck area, and white lace at the end of the sleeves. "Hurry darling, change into this. I'll have Josephine come in and get your makeup done. Is your corset tight still?"

"I'm not wearing one," Adeline says, gulping afterwards.

"Oh my," he murmurs, and walks slowly to the green dresser on the other side of the room. He grabs a single cream colored corset from the drawers. "I'll go get Josephine to do this for you. Stay here dear."

Before she could reply, he was rushing out of the room, corset in hand. She sighed and sat back. She knew this was a dream. A corset? No one had used those for about three hundred years, right? She didn't know. She never learned specific years for clothing. Only that the Edwardian age was… in the early 1900's. What year was it?

"Hello miss," a young woman walks in with the corset. Adeline takes the time to inspect her.

Her hair was a golden color that reached a little past her shoulder, and was curled tightly. A blue dress was placed on her body, in the style of a maid's dress. She had green sparkling eyes, and was wearing black flats. She was skinny, but tall.

"Josephine?" Adeline guesses. Josephine looks up into Adeline's eyes. "What year is it?"

"Well 1912 of course," Josephine giggles, and helps Adeline out of dress. She takes off the pajamas Adeline was sweating in. "I can't wait to board the _RMS Titanic_!"

"What?" Adeline asks, looking at her in a confused manner. Josephine helped her into her corset before continuing:

"We'll see your father, and all of the officers, ooh! I'm so excited! They're all kind men. Do you remember any of them?"

"No," Adeline answers.

"Well, I'm sure your father, Mr. Andrews, will show you them again," Josephine says after she tightens the corset around Adeline's already small waist. Afterwards, she helps Adeline into the dress the man had given her. "Okay. Your great uncle is waiting for you. We already have everything packed in the car."

"Thank you," Adeline nods to Josephine. "I believe we're ready then."

"Yes," Josephine agrees, and grabs her hand. She starts to walk out of the door with Adeline in tow.

Josephine reminded Adeline of a girl from her village; someone that was always perky, yet nice and respectful. She was kind to others, but still she was always full of energy. That's how she thought Josephine was. She was kind and helpful, but seemed to be full of energy and happy. She hadn't known her for long, well, that she knew of. But she thought she could still make this assumption.

"Ah good, you're ready," her uncle says as they walk into the entrance area together. Adeline gives him a fake smile, and nods. "Okay, let's go then, shall we?"

He doesn't allow them to answer, instead, they all walk out of the house together. Adeline glances back at the house, and her eyes widened. She now realized how large the home was. It was a wooden house with white paint over it. They were in a large city, people swarmed around like bees trying to sting people. But they all were having fun.

"Okay, take her to the harbor," her uncle tells Josephine, and the maid nods.

"Yes sir," Josephine says, smiling at the elderly man. "Goodbye for now, Mr. Andrews."

"Goodbye Josephine," he nods at the maid, and then turns to his great niece. "And goodbye to you, Stella. We'll see each other soon again, okay?"

"Okay," Stella responds, and finds herself being pulled into a hug. She hugs the man back, and lets go once he does. "Thank you, uncle."

Josephine and her turn and start to walk together. Josephine talks about how Stella's 'father' is a shipbuilder by the name of Thomas Andrews. And how when he was younger, he made a small boat by himself. Ever since, he wanted to continue in ship building. Then he met Stella's mother, Helen. He never thought they'd get married; they hated each other at first. Then, the finally fell in love, had Stella, and another baby girl named Elizabeth.

"Oh she's a doll, isn't she?" giggles Josephine.

"Yes," Stella agrees, not knowing what the girl was talking about, or who Elizabeth really was. "How old is she again?"

"Oh about two years I reckon," Josephine says in an English voice, making Stella laugh quite loudly. "Your father doesn't want them coming aboard. But don't you remember? You were stuck on going. So he finally said yes."

"I see," Stella replies, and smiles at Josephine. "I can't wait to see my father."

She wasn't fully lying. She was excited to meet this man. A part of her was nervous of course. What if he wasn't a good man like she was thinking? What if he was scary, or didn't actually like her?

"What is the date today?" Stella asks Josephine.

"It's the second of April," Josephine answers in a happy voice. "Today the _Titanic_ sets sail to Southampton, where it'll then go to Cherbourg, and then Queenstown."

Stella doesn't respond. The two finally reached the docks, and Stella's eyes widened. The ship was ginormous; the biggest thing Stella had ever laid eyes on! It was tall, long, the width was large, everything about it was massive. How was this ship able to sail without getting pulled down by its own weight? If it were to even _touch_ anything it seemed like it would go down no matter what!

"This is large," this was the only thing Stella seemed to be able to say.

"Very," Josephine nods, and turns to the dark-haired beauty. "Your father had doubts about this very ship. This, and the other two, _Olympic_ and _Gigantic._ " She frowns. "The _Olympic_ struck another boat, and sadly, _Olympic_ now is lying at the bottom of the ocean."

"Oh," Stella whispers, and looks down at her feet.

"Stella, darling," she hears someone call, and she looks up. A man on the deck was yelling for her. "And Josephine, it's good to see you!"

"You too Mr. Andrews!" Josephine yells, and a soft smile appears on her face.

"Hello, father," Stella couldn't help but yell back. She wasn't sure if this was her father, but she was guessing so by his last name.

"This trip will be fantastic!" exclaims Josephine, and turns to board the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

Stella was reluctant to leave the concrete she was standing on to board the ship in front of her. She got the impression that she'd never be able to come back to the very land. With a sigh on her lips, she decided to play it non safe and board the grand ship. Josephine had gone in before her, quick to move on, and Stella had been thinking about it.

"Hello sweetheart," the same man from earlier greeted her at one of the doors. He had a soft smile on his face, brown eyes, and seemed to limp towards her. He grabbed her into his arms. "I can't wait to show you around the ship again."

"Could I first see the map of where we're heading?" Stella asks at random. She wanted to know where in the world she was.

"Yes, of course," he nods and pulls away, smiling at her. "I can't get over how much you remind me of your mother."

She giggles in response. Not just in the way girls giggle because of a compliment; but also because she didn't know _what_ her mother looked like. So she thought that was the best thing to do was to giggle. He reached for her arm, and hooked it in his. Josephine took his other.

"My office is just this way," he tells the two women, and starts towards the opposite direction that they had just been facing. On the way, he pointed out many things aboard the ship that he was obviously proud of.

"Here's the map," he said once they reached his room. He handed Stella the map. She gave him a confused look; this map was much different than ones she had seen before. The land was separated by large bodies of water. Where she had been before, there was no water. Only land that was divided by walls. "We're about to set sail to Southampton, which is over here." He points to a spot in some place called "Europe".

 _Your-rope?_ Stella ponders. _What kind of place is Your-rope?_

"Once we reach Europe,"—that's how you pronounce it?—"then we'll be going to two other places."

"Cherbourg and Queenstown," Stella repeated what Josephine had said earlier.

"Yes," her father nods to her. "Then we're off to America."

America she knew about. It was once a spot of land. But it was surrounded by water? Just like the rest? She always thought there was only land, no water. She knew about rivers and lakes of course, but what were these other things called?

"Mr. Andrews," someone knocks on the door. They open it. A male with dark hair and blue eyes appeared from behind the door. He had a cap on his head, along with a long coat. "Ismay needs to speak with you."

"Oh, Mr. Murdoch, thank you for getting me," Mr. Andrews looked a little off once Mr. Murdoch had said this. "Mr. Murdoch, please show these two to their rooms for me?"

"Yes sir," the man nods, and watches as Mr. Andrews leaves the room. "Hello ladies. I'm Chief Officer William McMaster Murdoch."

"Josephine, and this is Stella Andrews," Josephine says for her friend, seeing as she was a bit shy. "She's Thomas's daughter."

"Yes," William nods, "Thomas did mention his daughter was also boarding the ship." He turns to the door. "Follow me."

William seemed to walk with pride. Like he knew what he was doing. Stella, on the other hand, walked with her head down, only knowing where to turn by the sounds of footsteps. They reached their rooms finally, which seemed to be very close to the Officer's Quarters. They each had their own rooms, a bathroom was placed in each. It was lovely, and many pictures were in Stella's room already. She walked up to look at a few.

One was of her with a baby, which she assumed was her baby sister. Another was of her and Thomas, sitting in a boat on a lake. Then there was one of Thomas and a woman who she guessed was her mother. Then there was one of her and Josephine.

"Miss?" a knock came from the door. She knew it was Josephine. "We're about to set sail. Would you like to come and meet the crew now?"

"Yeah," Stella calls back, and fixes her long hair in the mirror. She was glad she didn't have to put it up in some hairdo.

Stella walked out of her room, and her and Josephine headed up to the bridge where she knew the others were. She felt the boat move, and at first it brought her a little bit of anxiety. What if they wouldn't make it?

But then she realized. Why would she be sent back just to die?

"Stella, Josephine," she was brought back to reality—somewhat reality—from the voice of her father's. "You came. Well, here's the crew." He points to the men in front of the two. "Captain Edward Smith, Joseph Bruce Ismay, Chief Officer William Murdoch, First Officer Charles Lightoller, Second Officer David Blair, Third Officer Herbert Pitman, Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall, Fifth Officer Harold Lowe, and Sixth Officer James Moody."

"Hello," Josephine kindly greeted everyone immediately, shaking their hands. Stella stayed behind, a bit shy.

"Stella's always been a tad bit shy," chuckles her father, "oh bloody hell Stella, go on now! Shake the men's hands, don't be shy. They don't bite!"

He chuckles, and pats her lightly on the back. She walks up to the captain first, and shakes his hand quickly. She goes down the row, and when she reaches William, her hand is slightly shaky. She felt sweaty as she nervously shook his hand. She retained eye contact, and continued on.

"Why your daughter is the complete opposite of you, Mr. Andrews," Ismay shared, smiling at the younger girl. "She seems to herself."

"I don't find the need to talk all the time, Mr. Ismay," she sasses, yet somehow the others don't think it changes her composure in a negative way. William held in a chuckle, unlike a few of the other officers. "I can assure you all, I'll be talking more in no time."

"Just give her some wine," her father adds, and smiles at his daughter. "Now, I received a note just a bit ago, so I must leave this small get together. Darling, go ahead and stay here or walk around the ship. Just don't get lost."

"That's a hard promise to keep father," she giggles, and kisses his cheek. "I'll see you for supper, correct?"

"Yes darling," he nods.

She was left with Josephine and the rest of the crew that stood before her. She noticed the man at the wheel, and that her father hadn't introduced them. But she didn't want to bug him, so she decided she'd ask her father later. His focus was only on the water in front of him, which was good.

"Are you feeling alright?" Ismay asked from behind her, making her jump lightly.

"I'm okay," she responds, and feels the need to walk away from the man.

"You really are different than your father," he notes, and then walks away from her.

She turns around to see Murdoch in front of her. His eyes sparkled, and were so bright. She could get lost in them like she did with the water around them. She hadn't seen anything like them before. He smiles down at her.

"Would you like to join the others and I in a small game of poker?" he asks.

"I don't know how to play," she admits with a blush, "but I'd love to watch."

He nods, and they walk together into the Officer's Smoke Room, which was set up just like a sitting room. There were a few officers already seated; Pitman, Lightoller, and Lowe, the others were getting either tea or some sort of alcoholic drink. She wasn't for sure what it was, nor if she would drink it. She took a seat between Murdoch and Pitman.

"How old are you?" Murdoch asks Stella, and she looks up at him.

"Twenty-four," she answers. "You?"

"He's old," jokes Lowe who's sitting across from Stella.

"Thirty-nine," he answers, and gives Lowe a glare. "I'm nine years older than you, so shove it up your arse."

"Still old," Lowe responds, and shows his deck of cards. Stella had no idea what any of it meant.

"What's your middle name?" William continues to ask.

"What's with the questions?" Stella sasses jokingly. "It's Ann, by the way."

"Just want to break you out of your shell," William shrugs, and laughs as he realizes he's won. "Hand it all over lads. Better luck next time. There's no beating me!"

"Oh you say that now," Charles interrupts, "but when I join you, you'll be cryin' on the bloody floor mate."

"I've beat you every single time," William throws back, and slams his cards onto the table. "I can do it again if I must."

"Oh will you hush it?" Moody yells, and focuses back on his arm wrestling against David Blair, who seemed to be winning. "I'll get you next time!"

Stella felt out of the loop, watching all of these men having fun and she was sitting there giggling at them all. She knew she wasn't a very fun person; she wasn't outgoing, and she was usually the quietest. But she felt the need to speak up today.

"Sorry James, but I don't think you'll be able to beat Mr. Blair over there," she giggles.

"Thanks for the support," he grunts as he tries to fight against David's arm. He ends up loosing, again. "C'mon mate, let me win just once?"

"There's no such thing as letting you win," David chuckles, and puts his arm up to go again. "Especially when someone has never been beaten."

︎ ︎ ︎

Just wanted to write this quick note! So as I was writing the age of Stella, I realized that Murdoch and Thomas were the same age! So in this story, Thomas will be a tad bit older so it'll be a little less… you know, awkward and all.

So Andrews is now 48 (which is how old Victor Garber was when he played Thomas Andrews (and personally I think James Cameron kind of wasted Victor's talent, and I think that Victor portrayed a very good Thomas Andrews, but he didn't quite get to match him perfectly, if that makes the slightest bit of sense)). And I'm sorry to anyone who has a problem with the main character and her soon-to-be lover being fifteen years apart! I didn't want to change Murdoch's age, but I also didn't want to make Stella older than twenty-four! I feel as if I shouldn't be changing the past at all, but I feel as if people would dislike Stella's father and her lover being the same age…


	3. Chapter 3

Everything seemed to be going by smoothly. Although, Thomas knew this wouldn't be the case as they sailed towards New York. Something would happen, he just didn't know what yet. Looking down below, he saw his daughter staring out to sea. She seemed oddly confused, as she watched the small waves clash with the large vessel.

Thomas decided to shake it off. Maybe she was thinking about what would happen when they reached America; she knew they were heading straight back, well, he _hoped_ she knew. Since they had left their family back in Belfast, of _course_ they'd be going straight back.

What if she found love? On this wretched boat that was bound to cause difficulty to the builder?

 _Oh, bloody hell_ , he thinks to himself, _she's growing up. She should be married off by now. She should've found love years ago._

Stella, on the other hand, was thinking about what life would be like in this time period. She knew next to nothing about the Edwardian age; only that they wore long pretty dresses and weird undergarments, and they all acted lady like. Which she knew how to do; she was scolded for any prissy thing she did in her real life.

She hated it.

"Stella," she heard Josephine call, "come, let's set up your room already!"

Stella hadn't done that yet. She loved to organize things, so without a question or retort, she walked to Josephine. They linked their arms, and walked towards their bedrooms, which were right underneath the officer's. They were moved to some of the first class bedrooms, it would be easier, as to Ismay.

She had to admit, it was easier for her too. Less walking for her, since their rooms are closest to the nearest elevator. That meant less walking in the miserable heels she was forced to wear. She knew she'd get blisters soon enough. How could women wear them every single day?

"I have to unpack in my room," Josephine tells Stella, "are you okay doing your own?"

"Yeah," Stella answers and unlocks her room, using the key her father gave to her. "Don't worry about me."

Stella walks into her room—which is mostly red and gold, soft colors—and takes a seat on her bed. No longer did she feel like organizing things. She was too tired for that. It felt as if she hasn't slept in a year! So she lied back on her bed, and closed her eyes.

William was now roaming around on the Officer's Promenade. The other officer's had things to do, and even though Will was the Chief Officer, he had nothing. He didn't mind, he liked to have some time by himself. Especially because soon enough, he'd have thousands of people surrounding him, and a very important job to attend to.

He then heard the clacking of heels behind him. He assumed it was just one of the maids who had lost her way, but when he turned around, he saw Stella walking to the railing. Her face looked solemn, and she looked down at the waves. A blush was plastered on her cheeks, and she was sweating. Although he wanted to walk up to her, he also knew a woman needed her space.

Then he heard a sniffle. He knew it had come from her. He glanced in her direction, and was surprised to see her crying as quietly as possible. She was trying to hold back the tears and the noises. He felt bad for the young girl, and also wanted to know what happened. Finally, he decided to walk up to her. He didn't miss her flinch away.

"Stella?" he quietly says. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," she stutters, sniffling again, "I'm fine."

"What happened?" he asks, and pulls her in for a friendly hug.

"A nightmare," she murmurs, and starts to sob into his chest. "I can't help it!"

So that was her problem. A nightmare? How bad could it have been?

︎ ︎ ︎

Running through the hallway, Stella felt the tears streaming down her face; her back was ripped open and bloodied. She screamed when she felt the whip lash out on her pale skin, splattering a substance that looked like deep red paint; blood. She could hear the yells that came from her father.

"You're a horrible daughter!" he yells, slashing her skin again with the whip. "You little slut, thinking you can get with my best friend?"

As she tripped and stumbled down the steps, she heard her father pounding against them. She lied in a small lump at the bottom, out in the open, yet her father didn't realize it. He trips over her. She whimpers as his foot strikes her open wounds.

Getting up as quickly as she possibly could, she bolted to the door. She opened it widely, and slammed it after she ran through. Sobs racked throughout her body, and she felt her knees quiver. But she continued on. She couldn't go back to her father.

"Get back here!" her father shouts at her and tries to whip her again. This time she's too far away.

The scene all changes.

Now she's on a boat, water rushing along the decks and submerging up to her ankles. The water was like ice that nipped slowly at her legs. She needed to get out. Running up along the wooden decks, she heard the terrifying sound of people screaming, and splashing noises. She pushed past people she had never seen before, and finally ends up bumping into someone. That "someone" turns around. She lets out a horrifying gasp. It's Mr. Murdoch, but, dead.

His face was missing skin, as if the sea had ripped it off; and his aroma was salty, just as the ocean's was. His clothes were tattered, and his shoes were no longer on his feet. He looked as if the water around them had eaten him right up.

She quickly realized the ship they were on was the _Titanic_ , and that it was sinking. Fast. She still couldn't get over William, the way he looked, the way she felt. She wanted to save him but it was too late. She watched as he fell into the water below, and sunk down to the world below.

︎ ︎ ︎

Now, she stood on the Officer's Promenade, and that said man was standing a few feet beside her. She was shaking, and felt tears run down her face. Then she heard his footsteps walking closer. She couldn't help but flinch lightly.

"Stella?" he quietly says. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," she stutters, sniffling again, "I'm fine."

"What happened?" he asks, and pulls her in for a friendly hug.

"A nightmare," she murmurs, and starts to sob into his chest. "I can't help it!"

Growing up, Stella always had terrible nightmares that would keep her up during the night, screaming and crying. Now that she didn't have her abusive father to slap her silly, what would be her punishment? She was hugging a man she hardly knew for bloody sake!

"I'm sorry," she says at last. "I get terrible dreams."

"Stella," she heard someone call from behind her. "What is it?"

It was Thomas. Although she could see him limping, he still walked with great speed towards his daughter. He had a worried look on his face. He grabbed her quickly, and pulled her away from Mr. Murdoch. He hugged her closely in his arms.

"I had a nightmare," she answers him. "I'm sorry father. I didn't mean to worry you."

"It's okay darling," he murmurs into her ear, "you'd worry me more if you didn't tell me." He then turns to William. "Thank you for watching over her, she has bad dreams a lot, y'know. It's hard to stay with her for them."

"It's no problem at all Mr. Andrews," William nods, and looks at Stella, who was still in her father's arms. She had a straight face, lines from her tears still apparent on her face. He sighed. "If you're busy Mr. Andrews, I can take Stella back. It'll be no problem whatsoever."

"Thank you Mr. Murdoch," he sighs, "what would I do without you?"

Thomas let go of his daughter, and motioned for her to go to William. She did slowly, and linked her arm with his. She shook slightly, but he still held her. Thomas nodded, and then kissed his daughter on the head once. They watched as Thomas walked away from them.

William still wondered why she had gone to the Officer's Promenade, instead of her private one. Maybe she was looking for her father. Maybe she didn't want to be alone, and knew someone would be out on the Officer's Promenade. Or maybe it was a mistake. Who knows.

"Thank you," she whispers at last, after a small amount of awkward silence.

"For what?" he asks, looking down at the shorter woman.

"For being here for me," she responds, looking down at her feet. "Usually I stay awake during the night, I thought maybe during the day would be better."

He wanted to know what she dreamt about. He's never had a terrible nightmare, only small ones. But he never woke up screaming or crying. He didn't know anyone who was like that. So he found it weird that it could happen.

"It's no problem," he says flabbergasted. She was thanking him for being there for her? Of course he would. "I'll be here anytime you need me, okay?"

"Okay," she replies shyly.

︎ ︎ ︎

The next day she was slipping on her shoes when Josephine walked in. Stella hadn't even thought about preparing herself, makeup wise. You could tell she had gotten close to no sleep the night before, bags hung under her eyes, they were bloodshot from crying, and smudges of mascara beaded her cheeks. How was Josephine capable enough to cover it all, when they couldn't even do it back in the real time?

"Sit," Josephine says softly. "Oh Stella, how I wish you'd stop having these wretched dreams. They're a pain in the behind to cover up."

"You think?" Stella whispers, and sits up straight and tall. "I wish they'd stop, but they won't."

"What do you think triggers them?" Josephine asks, and starts using her magic.

Stella knows why they keep happening, but Josephine wouldn't get it. Thomas wasn't abusive towards Stella, unlike her real father who could never keep his hands off of her in any way. He's the source of these reoccurring nightmares she has.

Except for the one last night.

Why did she dream of _William_ dying on the _Titanic_? She doesn't know if he died or not, but if he did, it must be a sign. _Oh stop being so silly Stella_ , she thought to herself. She was right, this was just some odd coincidence and she was just taking it further. No harm…

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

"What do you mean Josephine?" Thomas Andrews asks the maid.

Josephine had just finished explaining how Stella's reaction to talking about the nightmares made her realize something. Something must've happened to her. Josephine was very worried, and she knew Thomas was too. That's the reason she's now talking to him about it.

If this hadn't have happened over and over again, maybe Josephine would be less worried. But since it's a nightly occurrence for Stella to have a nightmare, wake up screaming and crying, Josephine is somewhat petrified. Stella isn't just her boss, she's her best friend too. She wants to get to the bottom of this.

"Do you remember anything bad that happened to Stella in the past?" Josephine asks the older man. "I don't know, a bully? Anything?"

"Honestly, no," Thomas answers, his eyebrows furrowing. Now that he thinks about it, most of his life with her is blank. He doesn't remember a lot of the things that have happened in the past. "Why?"

"There has to be a reason she's having these nightmares," she whispers, and pulls Thomas closer, "and I think it has to do with something we don't know about."

︎ ︎ ︎

"Why hello Stella," Captain Edward Smith greets the young lady. "Your father isn't here at the moment."

"I know," she says with a kind smile, "I wasn't looking for him."

"Oh?" he looks at her surprised. "Well, who is it you're searching for."

"My maid," Stella answers, and frowns, "I have no idea where she went off to."

"I think she's talking to your father, actually," Captain Smith tells her. "However, I don't quite know where they are."

"That's alright," she says with a shrug, "I'll find them. Thank you."

"It's good seeing you again," he responds and watches her as she walks away.

Stella walked slowly along the decks, searching for her maid and father. Where could they have gone to? Obviously, they couldn't have gotten far. The ship may be large in size, but there's only so many places you could hide. Especially when people are expected to board the ship soon, well, in about seven days. One full week there will be new faces on the ship, and she was excited yet nervous.

"Stella," she heard a voice calling her name from behind her. She turns to see William. A blush shadows on her face.

"Hello William," she greets and waits for him to make his way towards her.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, she knew he was talking about compared to the night before. The blush deepens.

"Okay," she lies, but quickly covers it up, "how about yourself?"

"Pretty good," he nods, "are you looking for your father?"

"Him and Josephine," she huffs.

"Well, the last time I saw him he was talking to Ismay," William informs her, "but that was, oh, I'd say about an hour ago now. I don't have a clue where the man could be now."

"I'll find him," she smiles, "I don't know how long it'll take, but I'll find him somehow."

"I'll keep an eye out for him also," William nods, and smiles down at Stella. "I must be heading off now, good luck."

"Thank you," she responds and watches as he walks away, he glanced at her once more and then turned out of her sight. She then whispers: "For everything."

︎ ︎ ︎

"There you are," Stella sighs as she meets up with her father, "where have you been all morning? I was forced to eat with the… lovely Ismay."

"I'm sorry darling," he kisses her forehead gently, "Josephine and I had a short chat."

"About what?" she asks, closing her eyes for a short while.

"Oh, nothing important," he lies and bites his tongue. He feels bad for lying to his daughter, one out of three of the most important people in his life, but he couldn't tell her. Not yet. "Would you like to eat lunch?"

"I'm not too hungry," she murmurs and looks up at him. "I might go rest for a little bit, excuse me."

She turned on her heel and started to walk away before her father could say a word. Even if she hardly knew the man, she felt a bit hurt that he couldn't tell her the truth. So maybe she shouldn't tell him she's actually going to the ballroom to play a bit of piano—which she had discovered through Harold Lowe, who had talked her into playing for him the hour before—and take a break from the world she was now stuck in.

The piano keys underneath her fingers looked as if they've never been touched by a hand or finger before. They were smooth, cool, they sent chills down her spine. Anticipation crawled throughout her and she starts to play. Different melodies, harmonies, and all in between she played elegantly, never missing a single beat.

Starting with _Did You Ever See A Lassie,_ and ending with _Claire de Lune_ , she happily ended her playing. The vibrations that made the music rang in her ears, bringing joy to her. Playing brought her happiness, something that was hard to find for her. This was her way of focusing on anything except for what was going on in the real world.

"Stella?" a voice rang from the doorway of the ballroom. She looks up; William stood in front of the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes, and immediately stands up from behind the piano. "I, I shouldn't be in here, I know."

"You play exquisitely," he interrupts her babbles, and smiles at the younger female. "Could you play more?"

"Well," she gnaws on her lip, "how about later tonight? I told my father I was 'resting', and I need to find him now."

"Okay," he agrees, "I'll meet you up on deck, and then we'll come down here together, right? Only us two?"

"Right," she nods.

She was suddenly excited for tonight.

︎ ︎ ︎

"And I said, 'Oh Harold, didn't you know it was me?'" a drunken Second Officer was much more to handle than a sober one, Stella presumed. However, she didn't think it would be this bad.

Although William had said it would only be the two of them, he ended up having to take Charles Lightoller back to his cabin where he'd hopefully stay for the rest of the night. Neither Stella nor Will had expected Charles and Herbert to decide to drink, but it happened, and now Bert is basically being carried by Harold back to his cabin.

"That was _you_ Lights?" Harold was flabbergasted. He had wondered who in their right mind would put white paint in his cap, but he should've known it was Charles Lightoller himself.

"Yeah!" Charles exclaims, obviously proud of his prank against the officer. "But don't tell Harold. He doesn't need to know."

"You bloody oaf," Harold murmurs, which makes Stella giggle.

"Oh Harold, he was just having fun!" she says and pushes Charles' head off of her shoulder. "Lights, if you place your sweaty head on my shoulder again, I will sever your beautiful face off."

"Oh don't do that," Harold mocks Stella, "he was just having fun."

"Oh hush you," she rolls her eyes playfully, which would've been considered rude of her, had William not have been used to her profound difference, before shoving Charles' head off again. "Charles, what did I just tell you?"

"You're pretty," he slurs and presses a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Get off her you bloody idiot," snaps William. "You and Bert will _never_ be left alone in a room full of booze ever again."

"But it was fun," he whines, before closing his eyes and stops walking.

"You've got to be kidding," Stella sighs and grabs Charles by the wrist. "Come on, we're almost to your cabin."

She has to pull Charles along to keep him moving. He'd stumble and almost fall, but William would catch him by the collar, stabilize him, and allow Stella to continue to walk. Finally, they reached the officer's cabins. Stella's arms felt weak; while Will looked unharmed. She puffed a breath of air, before allowing William to take Charles into his room.

"I'm so sorry about him," William apologizes once he closed the door. "Are you ready to retire back to our rooms? Or would you like to continue?"

"Continue of course," Stella murmurs and smiles at the attractive officer.

He smiles back and holds out his arm. She links hers through his, and then they started on their adventure to the ballroom. Stella's body racked with anticipation. She knew inside of the ballroom stood a grand piano, waiting for her to play the elegant keys. And she, for one, was ready to play it.

"Do you play?" William asked once they walked in, and Stella stood in front of the piano.

"A little," she blushes and plays a single "C". She sat down on the bench, and let out a sigh. She played a few random notes.

Then, finally, she played a real song. _A Mighty Fortress is our God_ was the first song she chose. Her favorite old-time hymn. She had found the book of hymns in her grandfather's old house, secretly, and her grandfather guided her into learning many of the hymns in the book.

William recognized it immediately and began humming along to the music. Before either knew it, they had both started singing together. Their voices perfected the piece in Stella's eyes. His voice was low and sounded heavenly.

"You sing also," he says once they finish their duet. "You have a lovely voice."

"Thank you, William," she replies with a slight blush. The next song he wouldn't know yet. _Children of the Heavenly Father._ This had been her grandfather's favorite song.

William watched in awe as she hit every note, and played the song with ease. He didn't recognize it, but he still hummed along once she got to the second verse. This song was much slower and more solemn.

"You're amazing," he compliments at last. He searched her eyes, before deciding to get up. He reached out for her to take his hand. "May I have this dance?"

"There's no music," she giggles, but takes his hand anyways.

He smiles back at her, and leads her to the middle of the floor. He gently places his hand on her hip, asking for permission to do so first. Once she agreed, he held her other hand, and they waltzed around the floor. She let out a laugh as he spun her. This was the most fun she's ever had in her life.


End file.
